


Without Death, There is No Life

by missandrogyny



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Immortals, M/M, because they are kinda immortal idk, if you like squint and turn your head to the side idk, it's e x r
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 13:23:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missandrogyny/pseuds/missandrogyny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Do you ever wonder," he asks his bottle, "why Father made you all so beautiful and me so ugly and useless?"</p><p>or</p><p>AU where the Amis are immortal</p>
            </blockquote>





	Without Death, There is No Life

They are guardians.

They were created to protect.

Although they each have their own duty, they work together to ensure the balance of the world. They give, they protect, they cultivate, and eventually, they take.

\---

The creator looked at the once empty world, and saw nothing.

So he created. He created a world, and in creating a world, created guardians to oversee it.

The first was Enjolras, who brought light and life. Combeferre followed, bringing wisdom and intelligence. Courfeyrac then brought emotion; Jehan brought beauty. Joly brought time and Lesgle brought luck. And Grantaire, the last, brought darkness and death.

And the creator was pleased.

\---

They were his brothers, but Grantaire did not feel as if he belonged.

They are all so beautiful, so radiant. Everything they touched seemed to bloom, and they were all so obviously good that sometimes it physically hurt to be in their presence.

But he? He wasn't beautiful. He was ugly, and anything he touched withered crumbled away. The others gave life and happiness, he gave death and agony.

So he drinks, and he tries to forget the souls he takes and the things he destroys.

\---

Sometimes, he watches them from his corner. He watches them clasp hands; watches them laughing, singing, talking dancing.

His own hands itch to clasp onto someone else's.

(He wraps them around the neck of the bottle.)

Because it's not that he can't. In fact, he can hold the hand of any of his brothers if he wanted to. Any except one.

(He brings his bottle to his lips and take a large gulp.)

Because, where exactly, have you seen life and death ever stand hand in hand?

\---

He watches Enjolras more than any of his brothers. Enjolras, with his blonde hair and blue eyes and radiance that is somehow unreal. Enjolras, who stands and looks like marble. Enjolras. who often looks at him with disdain and disappointment in those blue eyes.

It's not as if he can't speak to him. He can. He speaks to all of his brothers, exchanges jokes and laughs with them. It's just that, with Enjolras, they have yet to have a conversation that doesn't devolve into a screaming match. They talk, then argue, then scream, then insult each other, and Enjolras goes off to sulk and Grantaire goes off to find the bottom of another bottle.

Because that's what they are. They are never meant to see eye to eye.

Enjolras is life and light. He can see the beauty of everything; the ability of something to be better than what it is.

Grantaire, however, is darkness and destruction. All he sees is death and agony and nightmares, and he cannot see the beauty that Enjolras is pointing out to him.

(He can, however, see how beautiful Enjolras is. His palms itch; he wants to place his hand on that face, see if it's as cool as marble. He wants to press their lips together.

And so he drinks.)

\---

There are some days he paints.

Artists paint beautiful things. They paint landscapes and night skies, they sculpt marble statues and busts.

Grantaire paints, but he isn't an artist.

His paintings are landmarks destroyed, bodies upon bodies upon bodies piled on top of each other, bleeding, dying, crying. He paints nightmares, in swathes of red and black and grey until he can't take it anymore and drinks until he passes out.

\---

He gets himself screamed at by Enjolras again.

("Grantaire, you are incapable of anything! The only thing you see is the bottom of that bottle!")

He sits in his corner table, drinking sullenly, when Jehan comes up and sits across from him.

"Are you okay?" Jehan asks, taking Grantaire's hand in his own.

He opens his mouth to reply, and winces when he feels himself take a soul.

Jehan tightens his grip on Grantaire's hand.

"Am I ever?" Grantaire manages, eventually. He takes a drink from his bottle.

Jehan frowns at him, and intertwines their fingers.

Grantaire sighs involuntarily.

"You know, he's worried about you." Jehan says, and he doesn't have to say who. They both know.

"Let him worry." Grantaire answers, and Jehan's frown deepens.

"He didn't mean what he said to you." Jehan replies. "You know how he is. He can be cruel."

 _Yes,_ Grantaire wants to answer. _He can be cruel. So cruelly beautiful._

Instead, he takes another drink.

"Do you ever wonder," he asks his bottle, "why Father made you all so beautiful and me so ugly and useless?"

"You're not ugly and useless."

"Yes, I am." Grantaire takes his hand from Jehan's. "You all give the humans such beautiful things: light, intelligence, emotion, beauty; whereas I.... just take things from them. I take their happiness, their lives, their souls...it's just not fair."

"You're not useless," Jehan insists. "Death isn't useless. People have to die."

"But they're not any happier about it. They all just seem to want to live."

"Do you know why they want to live? It's because they know they're going to die."

Grantaire gives him a confused look.

"Do you think the people would appreciate art and emotion and beauty and light if they weren't going to die? If they were immortal, they'd take all those things for granted. Instead, their time is limited, so they make the most out of it." Jehan stands from his chair. "Death makes life precious."

Grantaire blinks. And says, "Did you know you're my favorite brother?"

Jehan laughs, a sound as clear and beautiful as bells. "We both know that's not true."

\---

Enjolras corners him on his way to his room.

"Grantaire, I.....I wanted to apologize for a while ago," Enjolras says, shifting on his feet.

"Don't worry about it." Grantaire answers, trying to edge around him.

"No, I....my behavior wasn't acceptable, I...was wrong to say you were incapable of anything." Enjolras replies, blocking Grantaire's way. He reaches out to grab Grantaire's arm, and flinches like he's just been burned.

Grantaire knows the feeling. He's tried touching Enjolras, before.

"Like I said, Apollo, don't worry about it. I'll see you tomorrow." He clenches his hands into fists, and successfully edges around Enjolras and into his room.

When he gets there, he lies on his back.

He dreams of Enjolras in his beauty, and of hands intertwined.

\---

Their father visits sometimes.

He watches them interact with each other. He sometimes asks them about their duties, to ensure that they're doing their job, but mostly he's content to watch them.

Grantaire approaches him during one of his visits.

"Father," he says. "Is death really necessary?"

(His hands are shaking. He hasn't had a drink yet. Inside him, he feels a spark.)

Valjean looks at him. "What do you mean, my boy?"

"I mean....." he trails off.

(He feels a fire beginning to consume a house.)

"I mean, we give them so much of these things, and let them feel powerful, only for us to just...take it back one day. Is it really necessary to take all their knowledge, their power, their life away from them?"

"Grantaire," Valjean sighs. "It is necessary to give, as well as take. That is how the universe works."

(He feels the fire spreading, burning other houses.)

"But take in such a brutal fashion?" Grantaire asks.

"Yes, my boy." Valjean answers, turning back to watch his sons bicker about dinner. "It is to remind them that not everything is permanent."

 _Except us,_ Grantaire's brain supplies _. Always us._

He watches his brothers silently.

(Inside, he feels it. A girl being suffocated by the fumes, as she tries to locate her little brothers. Her father is already dead, and her mother is at the market. He can feel her dying.

It excites and terrifies him.)

"And remember," Valjean adds, smiling at his sons. They seemed to have finally decided on dinner.

(The girl is choking, the fire is licking her skin, and yet she continues to look for her little brothers.)

_"Without death..."_

(She's found them now, and is quickly ushering them out the door. The flames continue to burn her skin, yet she doesn't notice.)

_"...there is...."_

(She's so close to the door now. She pushes them, closer to it. Beside her, the beams of the house begin to crack.)

_"...no life."_

(With a final bout of strength, she pushes her brothers out the door and into the waiting arms of a neighbor. The beams crack and fall on her.

Grantaire feels her spirit in him and he shudders.)

\---

He can feel Enjolras watching him.

At first, Grantaire ignores him. He ignores those gorgeous blue eyes from across the dinner table, from across the room.

But soon, Enjolras' stare becomes more intense, and Grantaire finds himself looking up and meeting that gaze.

One day, as he drinks in his corner table, Enjolras wanders up and takes a seat across from him.

Grantaire looks up from where his gaze was trained on the table.

They stare at each other for a while, until Grantaire speaks.

"Something you'd like to say, Apollo?"

Enjolras fidgets, reaches out and tries to cover one of Grantaire's hands with his own. His hand flinches away, and he stares at it like it's betrayed him.

"Grantaire," he says, and something in the way he says it makes Grantaire's chest ache. "Why can't I touch you?"

Grantaire laughs hollowly. "Oh, Apollo, it breaks my heart that you don't know."

\---

Enjolras wants to go to earth and live as a mortal, just for a while.

He mentions this during dinner once, to their Father.

Valjean looks at him.

"Enjolras..."

"Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and I already spoke about this. We would just like to go down for a bit, to experience what it's like." Enjolras reasons.

"I wanna experience what it's like to get laid." Courfeyrac mumbles. Combeferre elbows him sharply in the ribs.

"If we die as mortals, will our souls get delivered to Grantaire, like all the others?" Combeferre asks.

Valjean shakes his head. "No, I don't....I don't think so. But what about your duties?"

"We can manage," Enjolras replies quickly. "I mean, it's not as if we're to abandon them when we go down."

"And where on Earth would you like to go?" Valjean asks.

"Where the pretty girls are!" Courfeyrac answers quickly. Enjolras levels him a glare.

"Paris." Combeferre answers. "There's discontent. I want to witness a rebellion first hand."

"There are pretty girls in Paris, right?" Courfeyrac whispers to Jehan. Jehan shh-es him.

"....Very well." Valjean answers. "But tell me, what of your other brothers?"

"I....well, we were thinking, if they like, they could come with us. To Paris." Enjolras says.

"I'd like to," Jehan answers. Joly and Lesgle nod furiously.

"Grantaire?" Enjolras asks, fixing his gaze on him.

"I..." Grantaire can feel everyone staring at him, expecting an answer. He downs the wine in his wine glass (taking note of how it makes Enjolras frown). "Well, I go where you go."

Lesgle lets out a loud "whooop" and Courfeyrac stands up from his side of the table to hug him.

But all Grantaire notices is Enjolras' bright smile.

\---

Enjolras and the rest of his brothers throw themselves into preparation for the rebellion, in the hopes that it will become a revolution. They hope to overthrow the bourgeois and make all men equal.

Grantaire sees this ending in bloodshed and death. He drinks.

He becomes boisterous, and loud. He argues with Enjolras over everything and anything, and plays devil's advocate because he wants to. Enjolras often screams at him now, calls him useless, and Grantaire doesn't care. He drinks.

He still sees death and destruction and blood when he goes to sleep. He drinks.

\---

Enjolras asked him, once, when all the students and their brothers had cleared away.

"Why did you agree to come down with us? You're not helping. You don't believe in anything."

Grantaire had laughed.

"I believe in you."

\---

His brothers build a barricade, and there they stand, with the students they'd recruited. Grantaire is there. He is always with his brothers.

The soldiers march forward to attack, and Combeferre looks at him with an apology in his eyes.

He waves it away.

Then the fighting begins.

\---

He wakes up to silence.

He is in the wine shop, hunched over a table.

Maybe the fighting is over. He can return now, to his brothers and to his father. He can return to his bed and his room, can return to watching.

He sits up, rubs his eyes, yawns, looks around.

And stops.

There, in front of him, is Enjolras. He is bloody, but that did not make him any less beautiful. He is surrounded by guards, all their rifles trained at him.

So Grantaire does what comes naturally to him. He speaks.

"Vive la Revolution! I am one of them."

He weaves his way through the guards, his eyes never leaving Enjolras. Enjolras looks at him, shocked. There is a question there, in his eyes.

Grantaire hopes his own convey the answer.

"Finish us both in one blow," he tells the sergeant.

And, finally, turning to Enjolras, he asks.

"Do you permit it?"

Enjolras looks at him. Then slowly, Enjolras smiles brightly.

There is a warmth in Grantaire's palm. He looks down, and _oh_.

The sergeant fires.

\---

He wakes up to the sounds of his brothers.

They all push towards him, laughing. Jehan throws his arms around Grantaire, and Grantaire embraces back. Jehan died first, and Grantaire had missed him terribly.

Beside him, he feels Enjolras stir. Combeferre and Courfeyrac both help Enjolras up.

Jehan smiles and helps Grantaire up. Joly and Lesgle both sling one arm around him and start talking loudly.

He looks up and his eyes find Valjean's. Valjean smiles, and motions them to the dining room.

"Grantaire."

He turns around and finds Enjolras looking at him. The rest don't notice, and are happily making their way to the dining room.

"Yes, Apollo?"

Enjolras bites his lip. Then slowly, he reaches one hand out toward Grantaire.

Their hands intertwine.

"Thank you."

And Grantaire smiles, a bright, brilliant smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a dream I had so long ago but never forgot  
> I wanted to write these two because they are quickly becoming my favorite ship I mean idk ugh they just suddenly spring me with feels when I least expect it cry  
> Edit: I am so sorry to the first 90 or so people who read this.....I fucked up the editing lol it's fixed now. I think.  
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated! :)


End file.
